


Just a Moment

by Witty_Whit



Series: Music Meme [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Declarations Of Love, M/M, Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-25
Updated: 2012-11-25
Packaged: 2017-11-19 13:16:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/573685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Witty_Whit/pseuds/Witty_Whit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's frantic thoughts when Castiel reveals his feelings to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Moment

Dean blinked. Then blinked again. He could blink.

He checked - yep, he could still breathe. His heart was still beating; he could hear it pounding in his ears.

Therefore, it was most likely that time hadn't stopped, he wasn't dead, and they weren't in immediate danger from a spell, curse, or jinx.

That was the only good news.

The bad news was blinking in return, staring at him with those innocent, dangerous eyes.

Dean had no idea what he was supposed to do now. Keep breathing, keep blinking, keep that heart beating - seemed like a good plan for right now.

As of a few moments ago, thinking was definitely, assuredly out of the question.

There was no way in heaven or hell he was going to think about what had just been said.

Nope. Wasn't going to think about anything, except about not thinking.

A sweat broke out in his palms and along his upper lip. A hot flush traveled up his neck and made tiny hairs prickle. Good. His body was still functioning enough to show the beginning signs of panic.

But it was important not to panic - to keep his head clear - nope, keep his head blank. Nothing to see here. No, ma'am. Thank you very much. Blah, blah, blah.

A slight shift caused those dangerous, blue eyes to glint in the sunlight at him.

Dean choked, composure slipping.

He couldn't help it. Tell a man not to think about zebras, and what does he think about? Zebras.

Or in this case, Castiel standing in front of him, waiting for Dean's response. His response to the angel's awkwardly formal declaration of... oh lordy... love.

Dean swallowed, mouth dry as the Great Basin Desert air around them.

"Dean?" Castiel's gravelly voice shook him out of his state of desperate denial. Dean watched Castiel’s arm reach halfway towards him, before dropping back to his side. "Are you well?"

Instinctively, Dean opened his mouth. Nothing came out. With a rough swallow, Dean replied hoarsely, "I'm fine. I'm just in shock."

"I apologize. I did not mean to alarm you."

With a wrench, Dean was finally able to move and dragged his hand across his face. "Honest, I'm fine. I just need a moment to think about what you said."

Castiel nodded. "Let us rest." He sat down on the rest stop bench. Dean woodenly followed suit. Now that he allowed himself to think, it was impossible to control the whirling thoughts that tumbled around his brain. He thought of their friendship, of moments of rest, of help given, of laughter shared, of trials endured, of patience and forgiveness, and of deep, deep stares that read his very soul and still approved.

He needed another moment for his brain to catch up with this new understanding of feelings, but instinctively he knew in his gut, that things were going to change in incalculable ways, very, very soon.

Hopefully, before Sammy got out of the rest stop bathroom.

**Author's Note:**

> WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?: "Studying Politics" - Emery


End file.
